Nightly Fears
by xwingday
Summary: What does an Auror do when she can no longer handle the night alone? NOTE: I had to reupload this do to technical diffs. For some reason when I did it got nearly 100 words shorter. Please let me know if you notice any problems.


**Author's Note: This story is set roughly in the beginning of Goblet of Fire not long after the events of the Quidditch World Cup. I apologize for any slight out of character behavior.**

**Nightly Fears**

**By: X-wing Day**

She'd come into this pub, like so many other nights hoping to shake the horrible sinking feeling growing in her chest. Tonight it was far worse it seemed then most nights and no amount of loud music in her lonely flat could banish it. With a sigh she rapped her knuckles on the bar's counter top and nodded to the man serving drinks. His eyes came up to hers and he gave a slight nod in return. For a muggle place it really wasn't bad, she mused as her eyes were turned back toward the men playing pool on the other side of the smoky room.

"Yer usual." The slightly gruff voice spoke over the music that filled the establishment causing her to turn and offer the bar tender some money that he waved off. She mutely raised an eyebrow and he nodded toward a young man who seemed to be finishing a pool game up. Judging by the commotion it looked like he'd won when they didn't want him to. She bit her lip slightly for a moment, than picked up her glass and started toward the group of men.

The brown eyed young man broke down his pool stick, quickly snapping it back into the case as another man all but growled at him. He was about to comment when he spotted her, walking toward them in a short jeans skirt and a black hoodie. The others caught sight of the young woman too judging by the way a few of them let out cat calls and whistled at her. Pink spiky hair made her the easiest person to spot in the room.

"Wotcher." She said as she came to a stop before the young man who'd just won the game. He was careful to keep his eyes locked on her own even as he nodded and spoke to his buddies.

"I'll catch you guys later, don't forget the tab." He heard a few more grumbles as he picked up his case, slid an arm across the young woman's shoulders and started to lead her away. "My tab was the wager tonight."

"So who should I thank for the whiskey?" She responded with a little playfulness in her voice, setting the now empty glass on a random table as they passed.. Her companion broke away from her to pull the bar door open for her, smiling in a charming manner.

"Me of course, those jerks wouldn't know how to be polite to a lady to save their own hides."

He'd tucked the case under his arm, shoving that hand into the pocket of his dark pants and slinging his other arm back across her shoulders. She folded her own arms before her, making a few flirty comments here and there as they walked in the thankfully warm night air. They made their way to a park and finally settled on a bench, the case found itself sitting on the ground and the young woman leaned tiredly against the dark haired young man. Her eyes shut but he knew she was somehow far from sleep.

"It's been months now since I first met you, will you ever tell me your name?" He asked with a mixture of annoyance and amusement filling his voice.

"You wouldn't believe me if I tried." She replied softly. She could feel his laugh even as she heard it and it caused a genuine little smile to cross her face.

"I know I'm not really from England, but things don't see that strange to me most of the time." He tried to coerce a little and this time she laughed.

"Oh, you haven't seen half of England yet mate." Her eyes opened, watching the shadows with that knot of tension again growing deep inside. "And you are pretty strange to us at times."

"That so. I suppose you'll never know my name if you never tell me yours." He sighed when she just seemed to except that comment. Something about the strange young woman seemed to have drawn the young man to her one night. Not the way the other men in the bar looked at her at these odd hours of early morning, no he always just felt that she needed someone. "What is it that has you so upset?"

"I'm not."

"You are." He saw her frown and gestured around them at the deserted park. "You watch the shadows, every time."

"So do you." She countered, feeling oddly protective of her inner demons.

"Yes, but I know why I watch the shadows and why I stop in to play pool at this hour. Good little boys and girls are tucked in right now with a few rare exceptions."

"What do you mean?" This time she sat up a bit straighter and focused on his face, her eyes searching slowly for some hint. There was something worn there, hiding in his eyes. He couldn't be much older than her own twenty-one years yet his eyes seemed very old indeed.

"I don't rest well." He began slowly and his dark eyes met hers calmly. The smallest hint of a smile touched his lips, but it didn't change the slightly haunted appearance she noted in his eyes. "If I tell you why, will you tell me why you don't?"

"I. . ." She considered rejecting the idea for a moment, but finally nodded in silent agreement.

"When I was very small I thought knew what the word death meant, but somehow it was something that didn't happen to those around me. Family didn't die, people moved away but didn't die. That was just something that happened in stories or to people that existed in history books." He sighed and his own eyes slid shut, the shadow of a pained expression swept across his face but was almost as swiftly chased away. "But when I was a preteen that changed. My Mother died, suddenly and very unexpectedly. Once that happened I wasn't a happy kid anymore I was a shell. I was always trying to keep people away, that way they couldn't become important to me. With out even realizing I became this shadow on the school grounds that just watched others live. Somehow I was convinced that no one else would die before me, because it was already not normal to have lost her."

"You're afraid of losing someone?" She questioned cautiously. He didn't open his eyes but his brow furrowed a little.

"I was. A few years ago however my father was diagnosed with something that I knew was going to kill him. I stupidly had thought for years that it'd be easier if I saw it coming. God I can't tell you how wrong I was." His eyes opened and she saw a deeper pain there than she remembered having seen in anyone for a very long time. "A good friend, one of the few who'd refused to let me just be alone, very nearly tackled me when I tried to smash my fist on a light post outside the hospital."

"The irony of it is, that once he passed away I slowly began to realize something. I've made the same mistakes over and over again in my life." He grimaced as he continued the lengthy story. "Most nights I can't sleep, most nights I can handle it. But there are nights when I start to think too deeply about my own mortality and it's end. No matter how far out that is, I am starting to feel an honest and deep fear of it."

"You're afraid you'll die?" She whispered the question, a bit caught by how similar their problems were.

"Oh no, I've come to terms with the fact that I'll die long ago. No, it's the uncertainty of existence." He saw a trace of confusion in her expression and smiled in a forced manner. "You see, though I tend to believe my parents are still there as spirits in heaven or just on the next plain. . . I have a hard time seeing myself there. I am somehow certain they still exist, but I am not so sure I will once I cross that bridge. That thought when I'm alone is a bit too much for me."

"But, there must be someone for you to talk to when you feel like that."

"I wasn't kidding, I've pushed people away. It was a mistake but I'm so used to being this way that I don't think I'll ever really let anyone in." He shook his head at the protest she seemed ready to launch at him. "It's your turn miss."

"I work for the government in a capacity." She saw his expression twitch and blinked at him. "What?"

"I'm a soldier." He watched as something seemed to pass through her eyes, than she raised an eyebrow at him. There was something in the loss of just a bit more tension that made him ask his next question. "Are you a soldier too?"

"Not exactly, but I really can't tell you much beyond that." She added apologetically. He waved it away, simply shutting his eyes again and listening. "I've only just really started at my job, but it's deadly serious most of the time. People do die sometimes, but it's been mostly calm for several years."

"Past tense?" He'd caught the key words and she smiled weakly though he didn't see it.

"There have been incidents recently that leave me wondering." She thought back on the Quidditch World Cup a little darkly. "The number of reports have gone up a bit too fast, and I've been thinking about the past a lot. Something major happened when I was a child and those with my current job at the time paid a really high cost."

"Meaning that somewhere in your work place is likely a memorial like thing to those who lost their lives. Something you see in the office a lot." He didn't make that a question as he spoke. "Maybe even some people who are still there from whatever happened. You think it'll happen again?"

"It looks very likely." She lost any pretense of a smile as she spoke. "I'm not afraid of dieing, and I don't think I'd considered the thought of losing my parents. They're not in anything dangerous. In fact when I'm working I'm completely fine, I love my job. I love to know I'm doing something but . . ."

"You also somewhat like the risks entailed?" He suggested when she trailed off.

"Yes." She sighed as she leaned forward and placed her face in her hands. "Until recently I've had my mentor around constantly, or at least where I could contact him easily. Now though, I've started to think I don't want to be him."

"How so?"

"He's an old, scared, paranoid man with no living family that took a job teaching kids to defend themselves." She laughed just a little at the strange expression that caused her nameless friend to adopt. "I love the ol' man but he's really almost to the point of thinking his tea pot is plotting against him."

"Okay, I can see how you wouldn't want to get to that point." He was chuckling a bit and shaking his head. "The fear of becoming a paranoid, old, cat lady is keeping you awake at night?"

"No, oh no." She slowly eased over to lean against her companion and took a deep breath to clear her thoughts a bit. "But these past few months I've started thinking how most people think he's one of the lucky ones. He lived through some rough times, when a lot of his fellows didn't. The problem is, the unlucky ones. There are these two, they lived through something but they aren't really there anymore. They aren't dead, but they aren't here either so what happened to them? When they die what will happen? When any of them died, are they really somewhere else?"

"Yes." He spoke with out any hesitance and she almost wanted to smack him. He again looked somehow older than she knew he was as he locked his gaze on hers. "I can't tell you where they are, how or why but they didn't just cease to exist."

"But what if they did?" She was grasping for a way to explain it that didn't give everything away. "What if the way they were killed could do that? What if they the way I die some day causes me to just not exists? And if I do exist after, what will I be?"

"Do you honestly want to know what I think?" He sounded a bit amused and she nodded. His eyes slipped closed even as he felt her head moving against his shoulder and took a deep breath. "I think you're going to find someone that will take your mind off these worries."

"This isn't the time for trying to charm me."

"I'm not, I know I'll do no one any real good on that level." His eyes opened and he tapped her nose with his index finger. "It's my personal belief that somewhere out there each of us has another half you could say. I think that once you meet that person you'll still be you but a lot of those worries wont be important anymore. You wont worry so much about the what happens when you die because what you'd do with out them will be far more important."

"That wasn't as comforting as you hoped, I think." She glared playfully at him and he started to smirk a little. "Now I'm worrying about the impending death of my unborn children's father whom I 'aven't even met yet."

"But you aren't worrying about wither or not you'll still exist." His voice was a little smug and she elbowed him for it. Again he seemed to calm and turn serious. "So far I push the fear away with other thoughts, I shove it off and move on. Sometimes I turn my music up loud enough to damage my hearing, sometimes I start reading, some times I just growl in frustrating and walk out."

"And go beat the drunks at billiards?" She suggested.

"Yes, sometimes." He seemed to search for the right words. "The thing is, I should be talking it out with someone, letting them know. I never do."

"You just told me."

"No offense, as eye-catching as you are, we haven't even traded names. There's still a barrier of anonymity to our conversations, knowing that one night we may never run into the other again. As sad as it is to say, I'd remember you but I wouldn't search for you. I'd wish you well and continue on." He grimaced. "No, I should sit down with what remains of my family, a best friend or maybe a girl friend and let them know how I feel. Discuss things with them. It's beyond my abilities."

"But if you can speak to me surely. . ." She turned on the bench, facing him with a bit of surprise.

"When I was little I couldn't even say the word 'love'. These days I can't even read my own feelings, I'm numb." He smirked at her and stood slowly. "What I suggest is you have a seat some night, with someone you love, and talk to them. Let them in."

He started to walk away and she felt a little pang of regret. Something about tonight told her this was the last time he'd be there to help her forget, for a time, the growing fear inside her. She called out to him, grabbing his abandoned case and jogging to catch up to him with a shy look for the first time since they'd met.

"You forgot this." She held out the case but he shook his head.

"Why don't you keep it, I have a few more. Maybe you can learn the game some night when you need to think about something else." He smiled at her, but the one she returned him was a little sad. He raised a dark eyebrow and leaned close to inspect her expression. "Are you okay?"

"You were wrong about one thing back there." She kissed his cheek lightly before backing away a step. "I will miss you one night when we don't see each other, and I'll keep an eye out for you for a long time."

"But you wont cry, it wont cause you to morn a friend." He shoved his hands in his pockets and bowed awkwardly. "Good night miss, I hope things work out."

She watched him walk out of the park, ignoring how the sky was slowly turning a lighter color. She stood for several minutes after he walked away, and something inside her felt a bit guilty. If there was really going to be another war, if You-Know-Who was really back, then the muggles weren't any safer than anyone else. In fact, something inside her was desperately hoping the young man she'd been speaking to would be flying home soon. Not that anywhere was safe in the long run, but London, England was possibly about to be a very dangerous place to be a muggle.

"My name is Nymphadora Tonks." She said softly to the deserted park before she let out a sigh. "My job, among other things, is to keep you from having a reason to realize my world exists."

With that, and the case in hand, she walked out of the park heading the other way. Today was her day off and Tonks thought maybe it was a good day to visit her parents.


End file.
